I Think I've Disappeared
by kc creation
Summary: It's scary how just one little sound, all by itself, can bring back the haunting memories of a child's past.


**I Think I've Disappeared**

He was just washing his hands. Training had been hard, but as master said, he should fill up his rumbling tummy before settling for a nice warm bubble bath and heading off to bed. The lights flickered as he flipped the switch on, and the tile was cold beneath his bare feet. He padded slowly toward the single, porcelain bowl of the sink and turned the handle, taking a moment to lather his little hands with soap.

A strange ticking caught his attention, but only for a moment. Master _did_ say it was going to rain, and the thin walls of his home did nothing to shut out the noises of the outside world. He hummed the alphabet song to himself, remembering how his teacher instructed that you're hands weren't clean until the song was over.

_'But my hands never feel clean.'_

He had felt like saying, but kept it to himself.

The last thing he needed was another call home from the school.

_'x, y, z-' _

The ticking hadn't ceased, and now, he could even hear it over the sound of the rushing water. He ran over the rest of the song hurriedly in his head, pushing the knob back into place. The bathroom was filled with silence.

He sighed, drying his hands on a towel, and brushing his hair out of his face. He took three tiny steps, and a swishing sound called through the air, followed by the cry of a whistle. He fell backward, knocking his upper back against the wall next to the toilet. The water within it shook as the noise raged on, and he gripped his little fists tight. The walls were shaking, shuddering the bathroom's single mirror violently, and his red eyes widened as it was almost thrown from the wall.

It sounded as if someone were whispering into his ear, somehow loud above the chugging and whistling of whatever-it-was behind the walls. Like a _train_, his mind reeled, memories of his last trainstation trip surfacing, as tears built behind his sad crimson eyes.

-_'Mommy's just gonna leave for a second, kay?'_

_She had said that, leaving her only son standing alone in the middle of the crowded boarding area. People knudged rudely passed, and he called helplessly for his mother, but he could barely see her long red-brown hair through the crowd. Of course, he followed, gasping as he finally pushed through, staring down into a lower pit at the long, black railroad tracks. He could see her now, only a hundred feet away. She looked beautiful, he told himself, but mommy always looked beautiful when she smiled._

_A voice blared over the intercom, and a highpitched whistle sounded throughout the building, a large train rumbling toward them. The next few moments were a blur, but he knew, once he remembered was thinking even _was_, that his mother had turned, smiled at him, and jumped head-on into a train._

_He opened his mouth, everything bubbling in his throat at once, and let loose the shrillest scream his lungs would allow.-_

"Kyo!"

Master was there, and he didn't understand. The rumbling was gone, where was mommy? _Where was mommy!?_

"It's my fault!"

He screeched, digging his nails into the flesh of Kazuma's arm.

"No-"

The elder man tried to coax, but the boy began to sob, shaking terribly as memories too heavy for his little form raced through his mind.

"She hated me! She hated me! She'd still be alive if I had just died! Why didn't God take _me_ instead?!"

Kazuma, with all of his knowledge and earthly wisdom, spoke not a word, taking the crying child into his arms and rubbing his little back. The child hiccupped, gripping at his shirt tightly. He was afraid his master would leave too.

"He didn't take you.." He paused to pat the child on the back, "because he knew you could make a lot of people happy, like you've made _me _happy."

Kyo sniffed, looking up at his foster father with hopeful, puffy eyes. He couldn't explain it, but the look in those eyes made Kazuma feel happier than he'd ever been before. He was sure he would treasure the memory forever.

When the little boy was all grown up, having children of his own, Kazuma was sure he did too.

_fin_

--

It kind of reminds me of my older work; a bit too choppy and fast-paced for my taste, really. I think I need to learn to stop writing such detailed descriptions of little things like walking or flipping on a lightswitch, and focus on how the characters are really feeling. eh, Just my opinion.

Constructive criticism is very welcome.


End file.
